Interview taken from HermAphrodite #2.

N.B. ‘The Beekeepers’ have since split, and from the ashes there rises… Lucas J.

Jamie’s still singing too, you know.

Those of you who know me will know that I am in the habit of taking baby bands. Which always seems a far more joyous occasion for me than those around me. ( It’s usually a fairly loud practice. )

If your music is truly beautiful, you will be adopted, and then wholly adored.

Even those of you that don’t know me, I’ve probably tried to conscript you as an audience for one of the bands in question. ( Probably The Bigger The God. ) So you can appreciate the sentiments behind this prelude.

The Beekeepers are my ninth baby band, and my first punk love. They’re a five-piece from Derby, and the aural equivalent of nitro-glycerine. Imagine the very best thing in you life, and give it a drummer called Tree....

That’s The Beekeepers.

Gaz - “ I’d rather be a dirty punk all my life, and make some great records, and maybe never get discovered until many years into the future, as long as the records are good...”

And so it came to pass that I was wandering the streets of York heading for a pub under a concrete office block, which was to house The Beekeepers for the evening, in the late spring twilight of a Saturday in May...

Now I know York for two things; Shed 7, and history. I have long held a vague and warped idea that the walls were built to keep out Viking long-boats - and the topic of Shed 7 I’d prefer to avoid. And it appeared that from neither was I to be safe even once inside Fibbers. Though that band ( grr ) only made their appearance felt by their being continuously played ( is it obligatory in a York pub ? ) on the bar juke-box ( people paid to hear that, they paid ), the York walls only managed to pervade conversation so far.

Partly because neither I nor The Beekeepers had a chance to explore them properly - they had decided that in an unknown city it is more conducive to your welfare to spend three hours losing your money to complicated video games ( Jamie did win a fiver, though suspects the machine was either feeling ill with all the money it had swallowed by that point in the evening, or may just have been feeling sorry for him . ) Partly cos they prefer not to get lost in a strange city looking for culture. And partly because the momentum was lost once Tree had cynically explained why the walls were originally built.

Tree - “ Cos they knew, that in time, the tourists would love it.”

Now, before we go any further, there are some things you should know about the one called Tree. He used to torture his sister - a practice which appears to be compulsory to be a member of this band. He loves Sunday dinners. He’s a very experienced liar. And yeah, he is called Tree.

I’ve been wondering why as well. Particularly as when I’d asked Jamie he didn’t know. ( How? ) I enquired, and was told it was his real name ( Tree - ‘lucky for me, as my second name’s Rgreen’ ). And conversation didn’t really progress until I’d discovered why exactly.

Gaz started it off; “ His parents were hippies... nice people... original proto-Beatnik hippies...”

Tree - “ They called me Tree obviously in a drug crazy moment at the christening. But then, what actually happened was, me dad got a job at Tailor and Woodrow... settled down, had my sister, and things completely changed, cos her name’s Sharon...”

Isn’t that lovely; I really liked the idea of him genuinely being called Tree.

Shame this was my first evidence of his being a lying toad.

Tree - “ In fact, can we just tell the true story now.... Years ago, I roadied for a punk band, went to the studio with them, it was one of those things where you cut the single in a day and it’s all done. And on the way out, I was lugging the gear out singing along and I got the words wrong; I was singing about Christmas Trees. And they were going “ Well what are you singing about?” and I was like “Well the words, Christmas trees”, and they were like “No, no, no, you turkey, it’s not Christmas tree it’s ‘bleurgh-blah-bleurgh’ ” ( N.B. not the real lyrics, as he can now only remember what they are not ). “ And then when the record came out, on the back they put ‘Thanks to Steve Christmas Tree’’. And then I was ‘Christmas tree’, and then it got shortened to ‘The Tree’, and then just ‘Tree’. ”

I absorb this information, and suggest he has his own merchandising section of the T-shirt ‘boutique’.

Gaz - ( sighing ) “ Tree’s working on it.”

Tree - “ Yeah, I’m branching out... ( I emit a low cry of distress, and wish for Lard’s drum machine. ) Now, do you wanna know why he’s called ‘Gaz’ ???”

Well, no. But I was wondering why exactly he, the group’s guitarist, and self-professed “Official gobshite” was wearing an I am 70 badge. Seriously.

Tree - “ We had short notice of his birthday.”

Gaz - “ We were going to play a gig that didn’t happen, and I told them on the way that it was my birthday then, and they had to get me a card at the service station...”

Oh, I love it.

me - ( pause ) “ Are you going to keep it, or are you going to give it to somebody you think more deserving of being seventy ?”

Gaz - ( he thinks about it ) “ I’m going to give it to someone that smells of wee...”

There’s a pause.

A lot of small children have stumbled into the room by now. A woman still dressed for work is tottering towards the bar in her big hair and high heels. I’m beginning to wonder about the phenomenon of a ‘typical’ Beekeepers audience. And then in glides one in a black Kangol hat and thick-metal rimmed red glasses. Looked French. Turned out to be Jamie in disguise. Oh... Moral - don’t try and gauge a ‘typical audience’ if the most atypical example is to turn out to be the lead singer hiding a bad hair day. ( Hair washed that morning, and now irritatingly not sticking up in tufts. )

I think, with The Beekeepers, that anyone who likes their music is welcome; though my thinking around this subject continued even while the second band were on, and I was still writing notes to Gaz on the back of his flyers.

me - Is this a typical audience for you? Do you have one? Do you simply provide a home for all the joyous children to bounce around in ( the aural equivalent of a bouncy castle, I s’pose ).

GAZ - IN ORDER; 1. YES. 2. NO, WE DON’T USUALLY HAVE AN AUDIENCE. 3. THAT COULD BE INTERPRETED THE WRONG WAY, NO COMMENT. 4. ( IN BRACKETS ) YES, IT WOULD BE, YES.

Grin. Though they do usually have an audience - they get sucked in from all corners of the room by the time the set’s over, and always go away convinced. It’s just that, nervous of Jamie, they don’t usually dare to get too close to the stage. And I did try suggesting that...

Gaz - “ I don’t get too close to him onstage either... But Bez’s actually more dangerous onstage, inne? ( looking at Tree ) Only cos he’s got no co-ordination... He’s just a bit ( pause ) random with his guitar.”

Tree - “ D’you remember those fireworks that got banned, Jumpin’ Jacks, that always finished up down your dad’s welly? That’s what Bez’s like onstage. ( he grins ) And always ends up inside Gaz’s wellies...”

Which brings us on to the messy subject of feet.

Tree - “ The one thing we all noticed last night is that we’ve all got trench foot; the van, honestly, it was nearly floating. Our soundman took his boots off, and then I took me trainers off...”

Gaz - ( contemplatively ) “ They were passing socks to the front of the van, should you wish to smell them, of course.”

Tree - “ And I have to say (looks around to check Jamie can’t hear us, before continuing gleefully), Jamie was asleep, and I was trying to wake him up with my sock. It didn’t work. In fact he was out longer...”

Part 2

Last revised: 26/07/01